


Birthday Blues

by YouBlitheringIdiot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Jily, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Marauders, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Wolfstar AU, sirius turning sixty, they all live au, they are happily married, wolfstar lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouBlitheringIdiot/pseuds/YouBlitheringIdiot
Summary: Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...





	Birthday Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jencala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jencala/gifts).

> To dear Jencala - Happy Birthday love!! You wonderfully kind, generous, impossibly talented person!! I hope you enjoy this purely fluffy silly fic, I thought I would start early on celebrating Sirius' 60th Birthday this year ...! As we all know, they all lived happily ever after...

Birthday Blues

Remus knows there is something on Sirius’ mind, something really getting on his nerves, in the same way he knows it’s going to rain, or the chicken pie he’s trying to make is going to be a disaster, or Harry is in love.

“Alright, Pads, spit it out,” he says matter-of-factly, holding the recipe book at arm’s length and squinting at it.

“What?” Sirius’ head shoots up, a look of utter astonishment on his expressive face.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you,” says Remus patiently, refusing to look over at his husband.

“I have no idea what on earth you’re talking about, Moony,” says Sirius, sticking his chin in the air defiantly, as ever.

“Oh I see,” says Remus.

He looks over in Sirius’ general direction, a mild look of exasperated entertainment on his face. He takes in the way Sirius’ leg is hopping backwards and forwards in agitation and the way the fork in his hand is twirling haphazardly.

“Merlin’s sake, Sirius, you’re so extra,” he snorts. “I know you too well. Out with it. What is it? I know your tell… your multiple tells!”

He’s grinning at Sirius with a fond, teasing smile which only makes Sirius scowl.

“Fuck you, I don’t have a tell!” Sirius splutters indignantly. “Utter balderdash!”

Remus tries hard not to laugh, biting the side of his cheek. Sirius clears his throat a few times and looks over at Remus, he opens his mouth and closed it abruptly. Remus purses his mouth shut. He continues measuring out the ingredients diligently. He desperately needs reading glasses. Which he hates.

“What do you mean, my tells?” Sirius breaks the silence.

“Oh I couldn’t possibly say, babes,” Remus hums good-naturedly. “It would give you an unfair advantage, and you haven’t managed to figure out my tells just yet, despite knowing me close to forty-nine years.”

Sirius’ facial expression changes immediately. From grumpy to triumphant.

“Huh, you’re a rotten liar, Lupin!” he says. “I know exactly what your tells are. When you’re worried about something, you pace around the kitchen and pull at your shirt cuffs. When you’re angry, you go exceedingly quiet and the slightest unexpected sound makes you irritable, especially me closing the door too loudly. When you’re sad, you stare outside the sitting room window and you take forever to finish reading a single page of a book. When you lie, you rub the side of your face and look delightfully sheepish.”

Remus stares at him wordlessly, the wooden spoon dangling uselessly from his hand. Sirius raises his eyebrows and smirks back at him.

“I take offence at that, I have never looked delightfully sheepish in my entire life!” Remus protests.

Sirius chuckles quietly.

“Yeah you have, regularly and predictably,” he says, a wicked gleam in his still stunning grey eyes.

“Bollocks! name one instance!” Remus says, folding his arms.

“With pleasure. You know the Paella that I regularly make you, your favourite?” Sirius says.

“Er, yes?” Remus says, resisting the sudden urge to scratch his stubble.

God that thing tastes horrendous, but poor Sirius seems so proud of himself whenever he makes it and he loves seeing his face light up and honestly, he’d hate to have to tell him that he really, really is not a fan of that dish, and at this stage he can hardly suddenly admit he actually hates it and…

“Wait, what do you mean?” Remus says, eying Sirius suspiciously.

“You hate it, don’t you?” Sirius bites his lower lip and smirks at Remus. “You hate it, but you love that I make it for you and that it makes me happy. So you lie to me in your beautiful, adorable way. Looking delightfully sheepish…”

Remus narrows his eyes.

“Hang on, but-“ he says.

“I like it though, it’s delicious,” Sirius’ grin could not get any wider. “I like it and I love your reaction. I was going to tell you eventually…”

The look of indignation on Remus’ face is priceless.

“BUT YOU’VE BEEN MAKING THAT PAELLA FOR NINE BLOODY YEARS, SIRIUS!” he gasps.

Sirius, the sly git, bursts out laughing and wipes his eyes with mirth, as Remus regards him impassively.

“It reminds me of our love, that beautiful Paella, Moony dearest,” he manages to splutter in between gales of laughter.

“You mean pasty and mushy, with excessive amounts of garlic?” says Remus drily, determined not to see the funny side of the situation.

“Inordinately indulgent and still ridiculously in love, after all these years,” Sirius smiles at Remus.

Maybe it is because of the way the evening sun plays on Sirius’ cheekbones, or the infectious sound of his laughter, or the way his eyes radiate mischief and youth, even at his age, as well as besotted tenderness.

“You’re a bastard, Pads,” he says flatly.

He knows his eyes are twinkling and giving him away completely.

“I am,” Sirius looks up at him adoringly.

“And you’re very lucky to have me,” Remus can’t help the small smile that graces his face.

“I know that already,” Sirius says, his eyes momentarily moist.

Merlin that man is so emotional, it makes Remus feel a surge of protective love towards him.

“And I love you very much, even if you’re a wanker and take advantage of my ridiculous feelings,” Remus smiles at Sirius softly.

Sirius rolls his eyes but the way he looks at Remus is so warm and contented, that Remus wants to hug him immediately.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Pads,” Remus says instead.

Sirius looks away momentarily and sighs dramatically.

“Well… you know that any day I’ll be turning sixty?” he mumbles, pulling at the skin near his nails.

Remus had already guessed this was the problem. But he bites his tongue and says nothing, except to hum in agreement.

“It’s just… ugh! Imagine turning sixty, Remus?” Sirius says, with a horrified tone.

“Yes, I can well imagine it, it’s not like I’m that far behind you, you know,” he says.

“Sixty though, I mean who the fuck is still sexy at sixty, eh?” Sirius says, looking at Remus dejectedly.

Remus takes in his husband’s fine features, his annoyingly handsome salt and pepper hair, now down to his shoulders, the sharp angle of his jaw, his languid walk, his stunning eyes.

_Sirius Lupin,_ he thinks immediately.

Merlin, he’s pathetic, how many years has he been married to Sirius and he still gets occasional Goosebumps that this wonderful man somehow loves him back. He can’t help the smile that blossoms on his face.

“Aside from you, obviously,” says Sirius, shaking his head as though that is an incontrovertible fact.

Remus bursts out laughing at that.

“Me? I was never good-looking, even when we got married!” he says.

“What are you talking about Moony? You’re the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen!” Sirius looks deadly earnest.

It makes Remus laugh again.

“Oh, you mean what Mary Mc Donald once called ugly but desirable?” he chuckles.

Sirius makes a rude hand gesture.

“I’m not even replying to your nonsense!” he says dismissively. “No listen, what’s the first thing that comes into your head when I say sixty-year-old man?”

_Grandad, thinks Remus._

“Grandad, Moony, a grandad!” barks Sirius, looking horrified.

“Pff! Prongs has been a grandad since he was in his forties, for crying out loud!” Remus says, coming to stand behind Sirius and placing his hands over his shoulders.

The heavy weight of his lover’s arms seems to instantly sooth Sirius, who sighs and leans back into Remus, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Prongs is hardly a paragon of coolness though, to be fair,” he says haughtily.

“Unlike you, you mean?” Remus tries not to laugh.

“Yeah!” Sirius says, mortally offended. “I mean, what next? No more dancing? No more going to rock concerts? No more-“

“Come on, up you get, I want a dance,” Remus says firmly, standing in front of Sirius and extending his hand in invitation.

“I’m going to look pathetic soon, you know,” he mutters.

He’s got his beseeching dog-eyes and Remus is fit to kill him and kiss him, he can’t quite decide which.

“Pads, you’re so needy!” he snorts, unable to stop himself from leaning over and kissing Sirius softly on the lips.

“I am a needy bastard,” agrees Sirius, melting into him.

The enchanted gramophone starts playing.

_“Some day, when I’m awfully low_

_When the world is cold_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight..”_

“Our first dance at our Wedding,” Sirius says, kissing him back tenderly.

“I know,” Remus smiles.

“I hate being old,” Sirius says.

He doesn’t sound upset in the slightest.

“The alternative is unattractive,” Remus says dryly.

Sirius pulls Remus closer to him as they dance slowly around the kitchen table.

“Prongs is going to so enjoy taking the piss, you know,” Remus adds, his eyes lighting up playfully.

“I know, fucking little brothers,” Sirius says with a resigned sigh, Remus can tell he secretly lives for the banter between him and his best friend and adored brother.

The corners of his eyes are crinkling up, as they are wont to do when he is trying not to laugh.

“And Lily,” Remus adds helpfully.

“Bloody sister-in-law,” Sirius groans, he’s grinning openly now, clearly looking forward to this, as well as being more terrified of the latter variety of relative and of her verbal prowess. 

“I’ve been thinking,” says Remus. “I think you should probably give up biking when you hit sixty.”

Sirius stops dead in his tracks and stares at Remus, his eyes wider than saucepans. Remus thinks he should win an Oscar for his stellar performance; he looks back at Sirius with innocent concern.

“The fuck?” Sirius’ voice is squeaky with horror.

“Well, you know, you sound unsure of yourself, and it might be the right time to-“

“Not in a million years, Moony,” Sirius sounds apoplectic. “No way! No absolute way in hell!”

Remus shrugs politely.

“My mistake,” he purrs.

“Merlin, Moony,” Sirius is still reeling from shock. “I’m not that fucking old!”

“Oh, I see,” Remus says.

Sirius reads the amused and clearly evil glint in his eyes and has to hand it to Remus for walking him into it perfectly.

“Fuck off, Moony,” he says, trying to sound annoyed.

He pulls Remus close to him again, running his fingers through Remus’ completely grey hair and then through his grey trimmed beard. He loves Remus’ upper lip, thinner than the lower lip, sarcastic and witty and so bloody self- effacing and adorable. He loves and desires everything about Remus. He touches the adjacent faded scar.

“We’ve been married since 1982, and I still think I’m the luckiest man alive,” Remus says quietly.

“We both are,” Sirius grins back at him, with more than a hint of cocky youthfulness.

Remus kisses his forehead and laughs happily.

“By the way, you do realise that it’s the start of August and your sixtieth birthday isn’t for another three months?” Remus adds.

“Well, old chap, I just wanted to make sure you don’t forget such a dashed important event, is all,” Sirius says smoothly.

He hates admitting to feeling vulnerable.

“Holy Merlin! This is what I’m married to?” Remus rolls his eyes for good measure.

Sirius shrugs helplessly.

“You need reading glasses, Moony,” he says sweetly, by way of answer.

“Fuck off,” Remus says.

It’s very infuriating that despite being nearly sixty, Sirius is no closer to needing glasses that he was at twenty.

“I love you,” Sirius murmurs, winking at him.

“I love you more,” Remus says.

“IMPOSSIBLE!” says Sirius.

He means it.

“Happy Birthday, Sirius Lupin,” Remus’ laugh tickles his ear. “You’re divinely incorrigible. Irredeemably enticing, even.”

“You know your vocabulary turns me on, dammit, keep talking, Professor Lupin,” Sirius says, his voice husky and low.

“Very well… also captivatingly pestiferous, enchantingly galling, inconveniently beguiling…”

“Oh sweet Merlin…” Sirius groans.

“Seductively vexing…”

"Fucking hell!" Sirius' voice deepens further...

………………………………………..

There’s a very good reason why Harry has always point blank refused the offer of a set of keys (to come and go as he pleases unannounced) to his uncles’ cottage…

**Author's Note:**

> I love older Wolfstar !


End file.
